Kitchen

I've got something to say, and god damn, I'm gonna say it

Cause daddy always told me "Take the hand you got and play it"

And I don't really care if my fact is mostly fiction

Cause it's as much a part of me as what momma's cookin' in the kitchen

So when I raise my voice, I raise it with contempt

For all the "better angels" who kowtow and repent

And I don't really care about a little rat put in a cage

I'll kick them like the dogs they are just to satisfy my rage

And I've got freedom all to myself. It was made for me and mine and no one else

I'll keep freedom all to myself because it was made for me and mine and no one else